


The Beautiful Beast: Conclusion

by Isuvviaraq



Series: The Beautiful Beast [5]
Category: No Fandom, 陰陽師 | Onmyoji (Video Game)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Family Dynamics, Forced Marriage, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:20:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21882910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isuvviaraq/pseuds/Isuvviaraq
Summary: The Final Chapter of The Beautiful Beast saga, in which Sato no Hiroshi makes a few statements off-record. This follows on, as it were, from the Prologue.
Relationships: Yasha (Onmyoji)/Other, original male/original female
Series: The Beautiful Beast [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1333384
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	The Beautiful Beast: Conclusion

Sato no Hiroshi sat and stared at the pink, ropey cut that ran across his palm and fingers – at the scar that was not yet fully formed. The campfire had long since burned out, but still his eyes shone like ghostly lanterns. His chest trembled with the unsteady rhythm of his breathing. In his other hand, tucked under one arm, Sato held a crumpled up handkerchief which Shoyo had given him.

At length, he clenched the scarred hand into a fist and screwed his eyes shut. “Shoyo-san…”

The patient Wanderer looked up from his scroll. “Yes, Sato-san?”

“I know this may sound selfish, but… can I ask you to forgo recording this final piece to my tale?”

“Of course,” Shoyo replied without pause. “I am willing to hear as much of your tale as you care to tell me.” At a gesture, his scroll began to roll shut of itself, and he began to clean his brush and ink stone. Hiroshi’s eyes flicked about in agitation, jaw working stiffly. He looked as though he’d been preparing some lengthy excuse, only to have it thwarted by the spirit’s sudden acquiescence. The Wanderer gave him a gentle, half-ironical smile. “Sato-san, you are far from the first to make such a request. It is a perfectly rational impulse. How could I dare to disrespect the trust you’ve given me by shutting my ears to your story, simply because I cannot record ever last detail? I am not so petty as that.”

The Traveler’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and he settled back on his log with a hint of gratitude. But the smile was short-lived, and presently his thoughts returned to his narrative. “That whole… incident with Tetsuo and the mirror… that happened a little less than two months ago. Afterward, I never did tell Haru-chan the whole story. She knows that it was Yasha who destroyed my village, and that I survived for those six years because he kept me as his prisoner in the Underworld… but I couldn’t bear to divulge the rest. So I asked her to be patient with me, promising that I would tell her on our anniversary as I’d already been planning. In the end though… I couldn’t wait that long.” Hiroshi stopped and looked at Shoyo as if expecting some remark from him, but the spirit was as still now as he’d been while writing.

Hiroshi carried on. “A few weeks later… I dreamt of Yasha.” Shoyo’s eyes widened, but he didn’t interrupt. “‘How could that be?’ you must wonder… Had Seimei’s talisman failed? Was the boar who eats nightmares indisposed by a stomach ache? Nothing of the sort. The dream I had… was a dream. Not a nightmare.

“In the dream, I was intoxicated. I was leaning on Yasha’s shoulder, and he was leading me to a futon. We were not in the realm. We were not in Kyoto. We were in… no place that I knew by name, but it was warm, gloomily lit, and as safe and familiar as home. I felt happy. My hand found its way into Yasha’s. Our fingers intertwined. I fell into bed with him, and I rejoiced for every moment of his embrace. His kisses were as sweet and mind-numbing as I remembered. When his… member… filled up my belly, it made me feel… whole.

“I woke up before I could reach climax. The first thing I did, without sparing a moment’s reflection, was take hold of my erection and start to stroke myself. The memory was so strong… My dreaming identity as Yasha’s happy bride still clung to my skull, at first. But with every passing moment, the dream was fading. Even as became sensible of the present, though, I couldn’t stop myself. I just wanted to cum…

“Moments before I reached orgasm, I recalled that Haruko was in bed with me, and I prayed that she was still asleep.” Hiroshi paused a while, holding himself by the shoulders. “As far as I could tell… she looked like she was sleeping. So after I’d… finished… I slipped out of bed and went to clean myself up. When I returned…” The Traveler swallowed convulsively. His voice was choked up with emotion. “Haruko had shifted so that now her back was to me. It could have just been a meaningless coincidence, but… maybe she was awake… maybe she heard and felt me masturbating to the thought of… of the man who raped me… when earlier that very same night I had refused to have sex with her.”

The human spread the handkerchief out again and covered his leaking eyes with it. “I’m so ashamed… I can’t believe I did that to her… I hate him… I hate Yasha so much. I hate him, and I love Haruko, and yet… my… I’m so…” He bit his lip, shoulders shaking. At last, he muttered, “I just hope to god she was really asleep…”

The silence dragged on. The woods were silent in the encroaching dusk, and the air was growing heavier. At last, the Wanderer spoke. “Then, that is why you decided to leave?”

That question, uttered in so simple and pragmatic a tone, spurred the human to make a quick collection of himself. “No… I mean… just…” With a gasp and a hiccup, Hiroshi sat up and began to speak afresh. “I mean _of course_ there were other reasons… There were _too many_ reasons for me to flee. I couldn’t justify staying any longer. That was just… the event that spurred me to make the decision.”

“Other reasons, such as?” Shoyo asked, again with that perfect simplicity of manner.

“Tetsuo, for a start,” Hiroshi said bitterly. “He was still in Kyoto, and I could no longer leave the house without an escort for fear of running into him or one of his lackeys. For that matter… Suirou, Sosuke, and all the others.

“Do you know something I realized on reflection?” Here, Sato’s voice rose with anger, and he stared wrathfully at the ground. “I know why none of them objected to Oda no Tetsuo’s talk of raping me. It’s because deep down, they _wanted_ to. It had probably already occurred to them before. They _wanted_ to do it. They just needed a strong, prominent, authoritative figure like Tetsuo to give them _permission_. All they needed was the excuse, ‘ _but it was his idea._ ’ They’re like brats who just want to have forbidden ‘fun’ and escape the consequences. Give them the power to resist repercussion, and they become just like Yasha. I could never look at them the same, once I’d seen their true nature.”

Reaching the end of this tirade, Hiroshi faltered a moment, as though stumbling. Then he resumed at a more moderate pace. “All of that, though… just throws wood on the fire that was kindled long before the incident. I wasn’t immortal like Yao Bikuni, but I would seem that way to the other inhabitants of Kyoto. Sooner or later, I would have to leave… so why not now? Why not leave before Haruko could become burdened with my bastard offspring… before I could hurt her any worse than I already had done… before we grew any closer, only to have it ripped apart by me abandoning her.”

Hiroshi swallowed hard and sat up straight. “I got it over with… The next morning, I started making discreet preparations. Over the next 3 weeks, I picked my destination, packed all the supplies I would need, and snuck out of the city in the dead of night.

Shoyo’s eyes widened again. “Without telling anyone?”

Hiroshi shook his head. “Not in advance… I just left Haruko with a note… and most of the items in the trunk Yasha gave me. I also forged a few weeks’ worth of correspondence to Shiragawa no Renji. It would give the impression that I went on a travel venture for my father-in-law and… was lost. That way the family will be able to save face.”

Shoyo was some time in replying. “You planned it out very carefully, it sounds like… So you’ve been on the road for… a week now?” The Traveler nodded. “Would it be imprudent of me to ask here you’re headed?”

The Traveler squeezed the handkerchief tightly. “A monastery.”

“Is that so?” Shoyo said, intrigued.

Hiroshi absently clutched at the front of his kimono. “Yes… When I was trapped in Yasha’s realm with no sense of time, meditation helped me to preserve my sanity. There, I can learn to let go of earthly attachments. I’ll cleanse my soul of the demon’s stain… and perhaps even train myself to expunge these dreams of unclean things from my mind…”

“That seems like a wise course to me,” Shoyo said contemplatively. “Furthermore, your longevity will perhaps be more readily accepted there than in other places. They can help you to cope with the long passage of time and the solitude that goes with it.”

Hiroshi’s smile deepened… and his air of melancholy along with it. “Precisely.”

Shoyo bowed low where he sat. “Allow me to wish you the best on your journey then, Sato-san. I hope you find satisfaction in the road ahead of you.”

Hiroshi returned the gesture. “Thank you, Shoyo-san. And thank you for agreeing to hold my story in confidence for so long. Whatever may be said of my story, I shall be glad not to hear it.”

“I quite understand,” the Wanderer replied wistfully. As he busied himself tucking his scrolls and writing supplies into his pack, one little scroll among the jumble caught his attention. “You know something, Sato-san,” he said after a thoughtful pause. “Your story reminds me of another that I heard earlier this year… though that one was of a distinctly different tone. Would you care to hear it?” The Traveler didn’t speak, but his eyes shine attentively. After a moment, he give a little half-nod for Shoyo to proceed.

The Wanderer picked out the little scroll, unfurled it, and began to speak, transitioning at random between reading off the scroll directly and summarizing its contents. “About four or five years ago, there was a boy who lived in a town just a mile from the coast. A cousin of his owned a dog. That dog gave birth to a littler of puppies, and the boy’s cousin gave him one of those puppies for his own. The boy was so thrilled by this gift that he named the puppy ‘Akita’ before he could stop to think of something more original.” This witticism wrung a smile from Sato’s grim, pretty face.

Pleased with this reaction, Shoyo proceeded. “Less than a week into their new friendship, however, the boy woke up one morning to find that his puppy had gone missing. Frightened and distraught, the boy spent all day searching for that puppy, but it seemed to have vanished. It was nowhere on his family’s farmstead, it hadn’t wandered back to its mother’s litter, and none of the boy’s neighbors had seen it. The boy feared the worst.”

The amusement on Sato’s face began to dissipate. He simply watched and listened tensely. “The next day, the boy’s mother packed a lunch for him so that he could continue his search. Perhaps the puppy had gotten lost out in the woods. He had only been walking until about noon when he saw somebody unexpected on the forest path. It was a man, but unusually pretty of hair and face. Curled up asleep in his arm, there rested little Akita.

“Neither the horns on the man’s head, nor the spear in his hand, inspired the least fear nor caution in the young lad. Joyously, he ran toward the stranger and called out, ‘Akita! You found Akita!’”

Hiroshi’s eyes went wide. He clutched convulsively at the front of his kimono, pursing his lips shut.

“The man remained expressionless as he handed the puppy back to its owner. To the boy’s many thanks, he gave no reply. Finally the lad asked, ‘Where did you find him?’ and the stranger was compelled to reply.

“‘I took him from a farm around here,’ he said.

“‘Oh. Did you take him on a little trip?’ the boy asked. Untroubled by the stranger’s silence, he cuddled his dog close and allowed it to lick his face. ‘I wish I’d known. I bet it was exciting, wasn’t it boy? Thanks for bringing him back safe!’ Still, the stranger offered no reply. Then the boy knelt down and pulled out the lunch his mother had packed. ‘Here!’ he said. ‘You can have one of my onigiri!’”

By this point, Hiroshi was clutching the front of his kimono with white knuckles. It had become apparent that there was something concealed beneath the fabric around which his fingers were clenched. It was hard to say just what thoughts were moving behind those vibrant, blue and green eyes.

Shoyo proceeded as though heedless of the Traveler’s tension. “Yet the stranger was loathe to accept the proffered food. ‘I don’t deserve it,’ he replied. ‘I never intended to bring your dog back in the first place.’

“But the simple lad was not dissuaded. ‘That’s alright,’ he said. ‘You still brought him back after he was missing. That’s why I want to thank you! Please?’

“The stranger stood uncertainly for a time. Eventually he accepted the young boy’s gift, but then he merely stared at the ball of rice without eating it. At length the boy offered, ‘Do you want to play with me and Akita?’

“‘I have to go home. My… wife is waiting for me,’ answered the spirit.

“The boy replied, ‘That’s fine, Oniisan. Just come by when you’re able, and I’ll let you play with Akita again.’

“The stranger said he would think about it, but then he left in a hurry. That was the last time the boy ever saw him.” With that, Shoyo unceremoniously began to roll up the scroll. “Quaint little story, don’t you agree?”

Hiroshi was still clutching at the object beneath his kimono. His complexion had not quite returned, but his eyes were no longer as panicky. “The ending was… more… anti-climactic than I expected,” he said guardedly.

“True stories are often like that,” said the Wanderer with a shrug. At last, with all his belongings packed neatly, he got to his feet and shouldered his pack. “Little daylight remains. You will have to hurry to reach the next town before nightfall.”

Sato stared without comprehension for a long few seconds before his mind adjusted to the shift of topic. With an energetic jolt, he took up his straw hat and fit it on his head so that the brim hid his unnatural eyes from view. “Thank you for listening… I hope some good eventually comes of that tale.”

“I’ve little doubt of that,” Shoyo said. “Would you like me to walk with you to the next town so you don’t lose your way?”  
The Traveler shook his head. “Thank you, but… I feel a particular need to be alone right now. I have a lot to think about.” 

“As you say.” Shoyo bowed. Just as the Traveler was turning to depart, he added, “Sato-san.” The human stopped. “You… still have the demon’s necklace, do you not?”

Sato gripped the front of his kimono tightly, but he did not answer.

The Wanderer nodded. “I noticed it some time ago… That one’s energy is redolent about it, you see. Having heard your story, I’m surprised that you decided to keep it. But… in case you feel the temptation to throw it away, I feel I should warn you not to do so.”

The Traveler half-turned toward the spirit. “Why not?”

Shoyo chose his next words with great care. “The spell that Yasha laid on that necklace… is imbued with his energy and the emotions that he felt at the time of casting. As you well know, Yasha’s mood was quite turbulent at that time, and he was always… an unstable person to begin with. If that necklace were ever away from you for… longer than a few months, I suspect that the energy would become restive.”

The human clutched at the pendant fearfully. “What does that mean, ‘restive.’? It can’t hurt anyone, can it? Isn’t it just to summon him from afar?”

“That’s what it was _intended_ for, no doubt,” Shoyo said, pursing his lips. “But it was also enchanted with the express intent that _you_ would be the one to own it. If you abandon it, it may find its way back to you again. And it’s sure to acquire some new… attributes in its search. It’s a well-understood process, through which a cursed object can sometimes emerge.”

Sato grimaced, now gingerly fidgeting at the front of his robe. “I wish I’d known that sooner. I’d have asked Seimei-sama to destroy it back in Kyoto.”

“It’s fortunate that you haven’t tried to lose it before now,” Shoyo pointed out. Hiroshi didn’t react to this suggestion. Presently, Shoyo turned toward the downward slope of the road. “Good luck, Sato no Hiroshi.”

Mind awhirl, Sato continued to stand in reflection for several minutes after the Wanderer’s departure. The commotion of tree branches murmuring of the rising wind brought a sense of urgency back to him, and he quickly got back onto the road. The rushing air was heavy with the perfume of coming rain.

In time, the human passed by a shrine on the side of the road. Its stone deity was protected from the encroaching rain by an umbrella lashed against it with a strand of cord. With the threatening storm looming overhead, Sato had no time to offer it a prayer and walked by. As he approached a wooden bridge only a short way beyond, however, he felt something scratch against the back of his leg. It startled him, but it was only the red umbrella that the statue had born. Curiously, he picked up the umbrella and walked back to the statue. The cord, which had secured the umbrella with such neat, tight knots, was wrapped in a single, loose coil without a kink on the shrine’s altar.

Hiroshi smiled and bowed low before the shrine. “Thank you. Farewell.” Then he resumed his walk to town with his pace redoubled.

In his absence, darkness grew, and the rain began to fall upon the stone statue. A snail, who had come all the way from Kyoto upon the heel of a Traveler’s sandal, scaled the altar and ascended to the crest of the statue’s brow. There, the shrine’s deity enjoyed its company as together they weathered the night’s dark storm.

**Author's Note:**

> Those of you who have read the Prologue may have anticipated that I'd do something like this. If not... then my apologies for the deception.  
>  _Just_ when you thought I was done, it turns out I had another chapter in my back pocket the whole time. 
> 
> I did feel kind of guilty about it... and worried that you guys might come burn my house down >.>;; which is why I decided to post both chapters in the same night so as not to keep you all in suspense. 
> 
> So with all of that in mind... it's finished. It's finally-... wait, what's that? 
> 
> ....... oh dear..... 
> 
> ..... there's an epilogue too.... HOORAAAY! :D 
> 
> But no more about that right now. I'm going to be taking a little break, so I won't be doing any more writing until the new year. Until I get started on that, let's consider this story happi-... well, concluded at any rate. I realize this may not be the most satisfying ending, but... As I mentioned to a commentor in chapter nine, there's a lot of _Mono no Aware_ in this story. If Hiroshi can find some way to heal from his past, then we should be happy for him. 
> 
> .... Even though I really want him to get together with Keita too ;~; 
> 
> You guys, thank you all so SOOOO damn much! It's just unbelievable to think that I've been working on this story for an entire year now. I'm so happy to have connected with so many of you, and there's no way I can adequately express my gratitude for all the support I've gotten from you all. I really don't know that I'd have gotten this far if not for you guys. You've been a blessing, make no mistake. And an especially big shoutout to SirenaLoreley for being the first person to support me on this venture. 
> 
> Thank you all, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, Pleasant Solstice, and all of that!


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